Faith
by serendipity80xxx
Summary: After everything he believed in has betrayed him - how can Booth still have faith? How can he trust? How can he explain his anger to the one person that matters? Set in early season 10 - Booth' thoughts - the ones we did not see on TV - mainly focusing on his relationship with Brennan. Currently planned as a two-parter. Rated M for a reason.


"I won't hurt you!" She said to him, confident, smiling. Her entire face lightening up looking at him, shining.

She was so beautiful. Looked so beautiful, he thought. His wife. His WIFE!

She kissed him again. This time he did not pull back. He slightly bent towards her, accepted the sweet touch of her warm soft lips against his lips. Oh God, how much he had missed this! How many endless nights in jail he had wished to touch her again, to feel her again... Desire rose in him. He wanted her, how much he wanted her! And just for this moment he wanted to let go of every other thought on his mind. He knew, he was a poisoned man. Hurt - too much hurt by all what had happened to him over the past four months. Too consumed by the betrayal, by the anger inside of him. But that one kiss from his wife, that amazing look of happiness upon her face, the beauty only she could still bring to his life - how could that not clear all that ugliness from his mind.

Her right hand went up to his neck, to hold him close. To take possession of him again. Her HUSBAND.

Their lips met again, barely separating from each other while passion took over. They moved around, towards the bed. THEIR bed. The one she had picked out, the one in the new home, their new home - which she had set up for the both of them and Christine.

For the second time on that day he felt sentimental, overpowered with gratitude. A small part of his belief brought back. By her. Entirely by her, and only her alone. The whole world, his whole world, had failed him. But not Bones.

Not for one split of a second she had, not once. He had gone through hell, through the worst time of his entire life - and still she had been there. For him. Always. Even through his worst nightmares, even when all of his faith, all of the good things, all of the just things in this world he had ever believed in had left him, had entirely failed him - still he had never been left alone in all of this. He'd always known that she'd been there. And still was there. With him. For him. And that she'd never give up fighting for him. She'd never give him up. Even now, even through all his hurt, all his anger, all his pain which now stood between them - because he could just not shut it down, shut it out - which piled up in him with every breath he took in pain - she did not give him up. My God, how could he be half the man now she deserved him to be? How could he love her, and be there for her, for Christine - when this wasn't over, when this didn't stop? When this never ended?

Stop! He had to cease this. Had to stop thinking. For her he had to stop.

"I promise this won't hurt a bit!" She emphasized, pulled him close again. Gently, she would not touch any of his bruised spots.

Her words reached him beyond his anger, beyond his pain. Almost as if having brought back his old self. He trusted her. Of course, he did. Entirely trusted her to keep that promise she'd made - keep it all the way through.

For a moment he was lost. He wanted this to happen. Wanted them to go beyond kissing. To make love - even when he did not know how he could do it. How he could be gentle, and kind, and caring... How he could be the man, the husband, she needed him to be - with all these ugly things, the pain, the anger, the rage on his mind. All these much too ugly memories. He wasn't even sure his bruised body was in any state, any state at all to make love to her.

"All right." He barely said it, closing his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of her lips against his. They sent shivers through his spine, his entire body. She could bring him back, she really could! He battled against acknowledging the poor physical state he was in. Every time he breathed in the cracked ribs - his souvenir from jail - still reminded him of the pain, of the hurt, of the injustice that had been done to him... Perhaps his mind could be tricked, could be shut down, or shut out - but then his body...

His wife touched him again. Held on to him. Gently made him lay down on the bed. Their bed. The one they would share again. Because she never ever, not for a single second ever, had believed he would stay in jail for the rest of his life. Because she had never doubted her ability, the ability of her team, of all their friends, to clear him of the unjust accusations that he had been charged with. Not for a single moment she had. Because she was still his 'Bones'. Because she still had absolute faith in him.

In a way, right in this moment, he could not even be angry anymore that she had gone and blackmailed Brady. That she had put her own life at risk to get him out of jail. He saw that now. Of course, she had equally suffered - just as much as him.

"Bones." He uttered while she dimmed out the lights. God, he had to let go of everything that was on his mind... He wanted this so much! He wanted her so much to get back that part of him, that person he had been up to four months ago, up to that point until the world had betrayed him... He had to try! He loved her. He had to find that person back. For her! He knew he could.

"Shh..." She replied, getting next to him. In a way she was on top of him. But that could not be, he thought. He did not feel her weight, did not feel any pain - just as she had promised...

Her lips went down his cheek, his neck. It was so dark without the light he could barely see her.

"Angela says I should take what I need..." She said.

"Angela!" He wanted to protest. But the next dozen of her kisses - now moving downwards on his chest - made him forget whatever he had wanted to say. He felt like that 16-year-old school boy again - whose body was violently in love, his mind just following suit.

He grabbed her. Perhaps a bit too passionate. But then, he was a man who had not made love for more than four months. He whirled her around and under him.

He winced in pain. He wasn't up to this, wasn't well enough to do this. Still he fought hard not to let her see.

"Booth." She said. Concern was in her voice. She must have felt him stiffen.

"I'm not sure I can do this." He had to admit. Hating himself. Of course, she deserved to get what she needed. She deserved so much more than that! So much more from him.

"It's okay." She said, her hand gently caressing his face. "Kissing you is very satisfying." She lifted her face to kiss him again

"No." He shook his head. Looking at her, his eyes now having adapted to the dim light which shone into their bedroom from the stars above through the open patio right next to the bedroom of their new house. "It's not enough!" He declared still shaking his head. God, he was not an invalid! A damn couple of bruises could not stop him from making love to his wife! "I want to make love to you!"

He ignored the pain of his battered ribs. Bent down to kiss her, to feel her, to hold her in his hands. God, he wanted her so much! Now. Right now! "Help me." He pleaded, breathing in sharply to contain the pain.

Gently they sat up. She took off her cardigan then pulled her night shirt over her head. He watched her, suddenly feeling this was going too slow. His hands went down, fervently, impatiently worked to undress the remainder of her clothes. He bent over. Kissed her now uncovered shoulder, her cleavage, her breasts.

"Booth." She shivered, pleased by his kisses. "We can still stop..." She reasoned. She did not sound like she wanted to.

"No." He exhaled. He had no intention to stop this. Not now. As gently as he could manage he pulled her close again until she was under him. A wave of pain from his bruised right side against her body left him almost impossible to go on. He growled, feeling more angered than pained now. He would not let the pain win. He would not let them win, would not let the people win who had done this to him! They could not take this away from him!

"Booth!" She demanded. "...Please!" Worry lay on her face. "You're clearly in pain! I'm hurting you!" She must have had called out his name once or twice before he had heard her.

"You're not!" He insisted. "I'm ok!" He would not admit to her he was not.

"Let me be on top." She said in earnest, still sounding worried. "Let me... do this." Her hands petted his neck, then his shoulders. "It will be very much less painful."

For the split of a second he stared at her. Of course, she still was the doctor, the rational, the practical one. Making love to her he actually preferred being on top - what could he say, he was kind of a traditional guy - but not that traditional that they hadn't experimented in their love life before. "Okay." He replied. Relieved that they would still have sex.

Gently she took charge of the situation, of him. Once again he felt his bruises ache when she slowly undressed his jeans. But the pain wasn't too bad now. If he had asked her she probably would have explained that the adrenaline of his arousal, of his desire to make love to her overpowered his sense of pain.

Oh God! Her hands all over his body, touching him where only she was allowed to go... This felt good, so good. Only now he realized how lonely, how terribly lonely all those months in jail without her had been. Even during her visits they had barely ever been allowed to even touch each other, let alone to kiss or to hold each other.

Consumed with all the pain, all his anger, his urge for revenge for what they had done to him and Bones - he hadn't realized how much being apart from her had hurt him, had hurt both of them. "Come here." He said. He needed to feel her close, as close as they both could get. Needed to occupy that very same space in the universe with her again.

Gently she sat down on top of him. Slowly she moved for them to become one again. She bent over to kiss him, carefully not to touch any of his bruises.

"Bones." He uttered her name. He did not feel any pain. He only felt her. The warmth of her, the sweet sensation of making love with her again. He held her close, pressed her thighs against him.

"Am I doing okay...?" She asked, now short of breath, but still sounding concerned.

He lifted his head, met her halfway. Kissed her. Bones. His Bones. How could she still worry - while she gave both of them so much pleasure... Just feeling her body against his body, kissing her, touching her, occupying that same space with her - which they had not done for so many months, which had been denied to them both for so long - would have been enough. But tonight, this - was so much more than that. And going slow now, just to accommodate his injuries, was out of the question.

"Booth...?" She panted, still waiting for an answer. She did no stop to move though.

He kissed her again. Lingered. "I love you." He eventually said. "We're fine." This was not the time to talk, feeling they were close to both of them reaching their orgasm soon. He waited for her, he always did. He found no pleasure in reaching it before she did.

"I love you, too." She replied. "Booth..."

He felt her climax and let go, violently shaken by his own. Then the entire world around him blacked out.

A sharp, almost unbearable pain brought him back into this world. The light was switched on again. He still lay on his back. Now almost impossible to catch a breath, to gasp for air in this position - while every single of his bruises now made him pay a hundred times over for the physical strain he had put his battered body through. He clenched his fists. He did not want Bones to see him like this, to see him in pain.

"Booth." She said, looking at him, concerned.

He had no idea how long she had been looking at him. He tried to breath more evenly, tried to control the pain. "I'm ok." He said, then - remembering how they had made love - he even managed to smile. "It was so much worth it..." He lifted his hand, reached for her face, touched her.

"You passed out." She stated. "I should not have d..."

"I just closed my eyes for a couple of seconds." He cut her off. "I'm fine. Really!"

"You can't breathe!" She protested.

"...That's because you are so beautiful - you just take my breath away." He tried to smile. It hurt.

She got up. Left the bedroom.

"Where are you going...?" He asked, confused. He had just tried to lighten the mood. Had he upset her?

She came back after half a minute - a package of pain killers and an ice pack in her hand.

"I don't want any of those." He told her, indicating at the pain killers. "It's not over yet. I have to stay alert. If they come after us again, I have to be alert!"

"Booth." She pleaded. Then sad down on the bed right next to him again.

Before he realized what was about to happen she had the ice pack applied on the most severely bruised right side of his body. He yelped. He wasn't exactly sure what was more disagreeable, having to bear the pain of his bruised ribs while breathing - or having an ice pack straight out of the freezer pressed against the bare skin of his midsection.

"That's much better." She declared. The doctor in her apparently satisfied with her work.

"Yeah." He replied. Unconvinced. This thing was really, really, really - COLD! "Bones. I'm fine. Really!" He tried to convince her, in an effort to have her take this thing away from him again.

"No, Booth! Hold still!" She declared. "This will help against the swelling. Once the swelling has improved, you will be able to breathe much easier..."

He sighed, slowly leaned back into the cushions again. This happened when one got married to a doctor - even when that doctor was only a forensic anthropologist.

"I don't think any of the ribs is fractured." She said, now leaning over his bruised midsection examining his injuries more closely. "However, I cannot be sure of that without palpating the ribcage or having some..."

"No!" He shook his head in horror, afraid that eagerness of her profession had made her forget that she had not wanted to hurt him. Had promised not to hurt him. But then, the people she usually dealt with did not feel any pain... not anymore.

However, touching him down there, touching his bruised ribs - was out of the question! "Bones, you can't..." He sighed, looking for words. How was he supposed to say this right? Of course, she was concerned. Even he himself had been shocked at the sight of his bruises the very first time.

"No, Booth. I understand. Given the extend of the bruises - plus the delicacy of the area - I certainly could not make a proper examination of your ribs without inducing any kind of pain therapy first... Which you clearly do not agree to." She added.

"I'm fine!" He insisted once again. How in the world could he make her drop the matter altogether?

"But - there are other - noninvasive - methods." She continued. "We can ask Cam to do a set of x-rays of..."

"No." He interrupted her. "I don't need any x-rays! ...I need to find who's behind all of this! Who did this to us!" He removed the ice pack from his body, put it down on the nightstand. Yes, he was angry. But angry was good, kept him focused on what he had to do! "I'm gonna make them pay!" He told her. "Then I'll be much better."

"Booth." She said, the concern back in her voice.

He brushed it away. "...You know I have to do this!" He looked at her.

She sighed. "Not tonight." She replied, moving over to her side of the bed. "You need to get some rest!" She touched his shoulder, gently placed her hand on his upper arm, indicating him to lie down. He did not move.

"We will get this person. We will get whoever did this to us." She told him. With absolute confidence.

He loved her. He loved her so much! She was the one who kept him sane, kept him on track. She was the reason why he could get through all of this, could survive all of this! "Ok." He said. "Tomorrow." Finally he lay down, his arm stretched out for her to lie down next to him, her head on his shoulder.

"Tomorrow." She repeated when he switched off the light and put his arm around her. Only her head and her shoulder touched him. Even now she made sure that she would not hurt him, that she would not touch any of his bruised parts. "Get some rest." She replied sleepily. "Sweets will be here at 8 to pick you up..."

"Okay." He said, listening to her even breaths. She'd fallen asleep, right next to him. Asleep in his arms...

Only this morning he would not have dared to dream of it, to dream of ever touching her again, of making love to her again, of ever falling asleep right next to her again. But now he could - and he did not need to dream it. It was real. The nightmare wasn't over, was far from over yet. The rage and the pain, the betrayal, the anger in him, they were still there. And they would not, they could not go away. But the worst part - the nights without her, the loneliness, the desperation never to be with her again - it did not break him. THEY did not break him - nor his wife. They did not. They did not have any idea what they were up against. HE WOULD MAKE THEM SEE!


End file.
